Aleksandr Pushkin

I am in chains, O maiden-rose,
And yet, not shameful of these guards;
A nightingale, thus, – in dense laurels –
A feathered king of the woods’ bards,
A proud and charming rose over,
In a sweet bondage – lives for long
And softly sings for her a song
Under a sensual night’s cover.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, March 11, 2005